


The Ascendant Son

by MissMysteria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1970s, Adult Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore Dies, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, BAMF Harry Potter, BAMF Lily Evans Potter, Death Eaters, Everyone Has Issues, Ex-Auror Harry Potter, F/F, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter Has Long Hair, Harry Potter Has a Different Name, Headmaster Harry Potter, History of Magic Class (Harry Potter), James Potter & Lily Evans Potter Live, Lucius Malfoy Bashing, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Minor Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Must Read, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Professor Sirius Black, Protective Minerva McGonagall, Read, Redeemed Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Sayre Family, Time Travel Fix-It, Time Travelling Harry Potter, Young James Potter, Young Lily Evans Potter, Young Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28490331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMysteria/pseuds/MissMysteria
Summary: The chalk piece hovered next to the board and he took a breath before beginning."Imagine that Lord Voldemort is still in power now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who is working for him and who isn't: you know that he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing."His hands had come up, gesturing with each sentence. The students hung on every word."The Ministry of Magic is in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, the Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere... panic... confusion... that's how it used to be."Lupin paused, hands frozen in the air.Then he continued, "That is, until the night of October 31st, 1978."
Relationships: Harry Potter & Lily Evans Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Narcissa Black Malfoy/Harry Potter, Order of the Phoenix & Harry Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 23
Kudos: 86





	The Ascendant Son

**5th of January, 1996**   
**History of Magic Classroom, Hogwarts Castle, Scotland**

"Alright, listen up! Boy and girls, ladies and gents, wizards, witches and hags; let's have you all looking this way, please and thank you! Bravo, Mr Finnagon, three points to Gryffindor! Miss Davis I'm delighted to see that you will be participating in my lesson this year, evidently my Christmas wish came true; three points to Slytherin. Your eyes should be on me, Mr Weasley, not on the back of Miss Lupin's head, despite how fascinating I know it to be." 

The class laughed and broke out into light murmurs as Ron's ears grew gradually warmer and his eyes flitted quickly away from where they had been rested on the girl sat on the desk in front. His friends around him snickered, rolling their eyes, and one with particularly disheveled black hair elbowed him in the ribs playfully. Ron scowled, blush climbing its way up the back of his neck.

"Right then," Professor Lupin said, grey eyes sparkling and a broad grin stretching across his face, "welcome back. I hope you all had a good Christmas break, I know I did."

Dorcas Lupin sighed when her father sent her an over-exaggerated wink, a light pink dusting her cheeks from the earlier comment, though everyone could see the slight quirk to her lips. 

"But, now we must move forth from the Yuletide cheer, and onto less exciting times." At this, Lupin gave a small wave of his wand and from the desk on which he was perched upon, three piles of parchment levitated up and floated gently down all four rows of desks, landing in front of every student. An animated buzz wafted over the classroom and he smirked at the reaction. "Or, perhaps, more exciting. Academic-wise." 

He jumped down off the desk and onto the floor, bringing attention to his bright green and red fluffy socks which just peeked over his dragon-hide boots. Dorcas huffed, but wasn't embarrassed. She'd experienced four years of her father working at Hogwarts, far too long to be affected by some _colourful_ _socks._ It wasn't nearly as bad as when he and her Aunt Lily had pranked the entire student and staff body with purple skin dye in their morning pumpkin juice. 

That had been _mortifying._

"What you have in front of you is the syllabus for the upcoming term, and, due to the nature of the subject, we will also be studying it for the remainder of the year. You can all bid the 1960 Squib Rights Marches adieu." He rapped his wand twice against the chalkboard to his right and the students fell silent, watching with rapt attention as his smile slowly slipped off his face and his eyes lost their usual spark.

It was not often that Professor Lupin was serious; he was one of the more well-liked staff members due to his laid-back and mischievous demeanour, but they all could understand why this topic would take its toll. "I think this goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway. I expect each and every one of you to treat the work we will be completing these coming months with the upmost respect. Some of you are lucky enough to not remember or know the affect these events had on our society," his eyes washed over Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas, both of whom were staring down at the syllabus sheet with deep intrigue and undisguised horror, "and some of you experienced it firsthand." 

Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, who were sat beside Ron Weasley, Dorcas Lupin and Arcelia Sayre, sandwiching Hermione on the row of desks in front of the three boys, all flushed, but held their heads high under the considering gazes of their classmates.

It was common knowledge, cemented into history from newspaper articles, novels and through word of mouth, that their parents had all had an incredible impact on the War effort. Fighting in the Order of the Phoenix, and for the Ministry, they'd been acknowledged for their heroics, each being awarded Order of Merlin's and other acclamations over the years. 

"That being said," Lupin continued, wand twirling through his fingers and attracting their attention once more, "I don't expect you, even the more informed of you, to show understanding of why Aurors and other duellers and Hit-Wizards acted how they did during these years. I expect queries, I bank on there being questions, I anticipate debate and startling realisations. My classroom and subject will no doubt become the most interesting of all your Hogwarts study very quickly."

He said this without exaggeration, and they all knew him to be telling the truth, each of them fidgeting in their seats, excited and anxious for what was to come. 

"As per usual, I will not be repeating myself. I will say things you will not have read before in your history books, heard from your other Professors, from your parents and older siblings and cousins and I will not say them twice. Therefore, I expect your attention to be on _me_ ," He gestured faintly to the large bay windows behind him that looked out onto the Forbidden Forest; it was a spectacular view and the afternoon sun shone directly through it and lit up the classroom, only not forcing them to squint due to the protective magic no doubt charmed into the glass, "not on what is going on behind me, even if there is a hippogriff flying past with the Giant Squid squirming in its talons, I expect you all to sit there and stare at me like I am water and you are dying of thirst, am I understood?"

"Yes, Professor." The class intoned back to him, some fighting smiles at his imagery, and he crossed his arms, pleased. 

"Good. Now, if we can get back into the practice of putting our wands on our desks before I start the lesson, I would very much appreciate it." With little to no grumbling, the students reached into their robes, bags, and even, in Tracey Davis' case, socks, and pulled out their wands, placing them on the desks where the Professor could see them easily.

It was a rule of his classroom which he had introduced during his first year as their History Professor, and they had grown to understand it. It did, after all, mean that their attention was firmly on him and his lesson. Not that it wouldn't be anyway; the way that Lupin taught the history of Magical Britain and Europe made it seem like storytelling, fascinating and intriguing and everyone wanted to know how the stories began, continued, and ended. 

"Okay, how to begin?" Lupin moved back to his desk, sliding a tray filled with blank parchment and the bronze name plate reading _S. LUPIN_ to the side, and leaped up onto it, crossing his legs and waving his wand in the general direction of the chalkboard. A small piece of white chalk that had rested on the ledge picked itself up and began to pen three dates written by an invisible hand; _1940s, 1970s, 1980s._ Each one was drawn into its own separate column.

The chalk piece continued to hover next to board and Lupin took a breath before beginning.

"Imagine that Lord Voldemort-" there was no flinch, and his eyes regained some of their spark as he was reminded of the change from his own childhood, "-is still in power now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who is working for him and who isn't: you know that he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing."

His hands had come up, gesturing with each sentence. The students hung on every word. 

"The Ministry of Magic is in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, the Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere... panic... confusion... that's how it used to be."

He waved his wand toward the chalkboard and the chalk piece moved just above the drawn columns, and began to paraphrase the information as he spoke it. Some of the students also started jotting down notes with their quills, filling the quiet room with a faint scratching. "The War was a major conflict, one of the first of its kind, the foundations of which had been building as early as the 1940s, but officially beginning in 1970, and ending in 1984. Lord Voldemort's tyranny was supported by his Death Eaters, a covert and violent group of dark wizards and witches who served him and brought terror to both the Muggle and Wizarding societies. They were opposed, in turn, by the British Ministry of Magic, and the Order of the Phoenix, an equally secretive organisation founded and led by Albus Dumbledore.

"Of course, all this stemmed from one man. And you must remember as I talk us through this horrific time period, that's all he was: simply, a man. A man who gained an army of followers so great that the leaders of the world came inches away from bowing at his feet. A man, who, like you, sat in this very classroom, walked this castle's many corridors, slipped through its hidden hallways, and slept under its ancient and protective roof. He seemed, to all the world, a student like any other." 

Here, Lupin paused. Not even a breath was heard being taken and he felt a thrill of delight. Despite the horrors of the past that he was retelling, it was always incredible to watch the faces of younger generations become absorbed in a different time. 

"His name: Tom Riddle. Of course, for almost two decades, he was known all over the world by another name."

Now under the column titled the _1940s,_ the chalk piece began to bullet-point his words.

"The War had its roots planted, though of course no one knew it yet, when Tom Marvolo Riddle was born on the 31st of December, 1926, to wealthy Muggle aristocrat, Thomas Riddle Senior, whose family was the locally unpopular gentry within the village of Little Hangleton, and Merope Gaunt, a Pureblood witch born into the antisocial and heavily inbred House of Gaunt, who lived in poverty across the valley from the village. 

"Having eloped with Riddle Senior, while he was secretly under the influence of a Love Potion, the couple caused a great scandal amongst the village due to the common unpopularity of the two families. But soon, Merope grew tired of living a lie, and, while pregnant three months later, lifted the bewitchment on her husband in the hope that he would either return her feelings, or stay for their child's sake. Instead, Riddle Senior fled back to Little Hangleton in utter disgust, leaving Merope in a state of depression in which she gave up the use of magic."

Some of the Pureblooded students gasped at this, and Lupin fought his smile as Hermione Granger glared at them. He didn't blame them; after knowing nothing but magic all their lives, it would be hard to imagine a life without such a luxury. 

He continued, "Merope Gaunt spent the rest of her life as a beggar on the streets of London. She sold a few stolen Gaunt heirlooms and died in childbirth while sheltered in a Muggle-run orphanage. As a result, the orphaned child Tom Riddle was left to spend the first eleven years of his life in said orphanage, where the circumstances of his conception, and lack of parental love, is said to have contributed to his many early warning signs of juvenile delinquency and, as it would turn out, his affinity for dark magic."

"Sir!" 

He nodded to Lavender Brown, who raised her hand and waved it impatiently, already anticipating the question she would ask. 

"Do you think that... well... do you think that, _maybe,_ Voldemort should be offered some sympathy-"

There was immediate outcry. 

"Sympathy!?"

"Sorry, Brown, I wasn't aware we had a secret Death Eater in our midst-"

"Merlin, Lavender, haven't you heard a word he's said?"

"The amount of shit he caused and you-"

Lupin held up a hand, silencing them all with a quick, " _Language_ , Mr Thorpe."

He smiled gently at a quietly seething, and slightly embarrassed, Lavender which seemed to ease some of her tension. "I understand your question, Miss Brown. After all, it's an age-old query. Should people who had terrible childhoods, and furthermore grow up to become terrible, be offered a lesser sentence? Our Headmaster thinks so."

A hush fell over the classroom and Arcelia shifted uncomfortably as eyes drew to her. 

"But he agrees, as do I, that Lord Voldemort exceeds the limit of which he could be given such. This man we're discussing murdered thousands, arguably millions. Perhaps not at his own hand, but he was in charge of those who held the wand, and more than likely gave the order. To answer your question, I think that _Tom Riddle_ deserved our sympathy. With hindsight, his upbringing should have highlighted him as an at-risk student when he first came to Hogwarts, but he wasn't. I do not think, however, that _Lord Voldemort_ is owed our sympathy."

He saw the confusion in Lavender Brown's eyes, but before he could confirm what he meant, he saw Parvati Patil lean over and whisper something in her ear which made her nod and smile. Leaving the girl to her friend, he clasped his hands together, twining the wand around his fingers as he did so. 

"During this time, our secret world, to which Riddle unknowingly belonged to, began developing new levels of anti-Muggle sentiment and economic growth. At some point before Riddle's birth, for instance, it is unclear exactly when, the Dark Wizard Gellert Grindelwald, who we've studied already, began launching his own magical supremacist revolution on the European mainland, fuelled by..." Lupin looked out across the class and nodded towards Neville Longbottom in the back. 

"Mr Longbottom, what was Grindelwald fuelled by? What was his main, overarching goal?"

His brow furrowing, quickly flipping through his book, Neville said after a few moments, "Uh... wasn't it the Death Stick? Or... sorry, I can't remember what they're actually called."

"That's alright. Miss Granger? Any idea?"

Hermione, who had been practically vibrating in her seat, sighed in relief and Arcelia smothered a grin behind her hand. "Grindelwald was obsessed with the fable of the Deathly Hallows and his desire to expose the Wizarding World's corrupt and unethical laws and establishments."

"Good, five points to Gryffindor. And three points to you, Mr Longbottom for giving it a go." Neville smiled gratefully as he scribbled down no doubt an abridged version of what Hermione had recited in his book.

"Which one of the three Deathly Hallows was it please, Miss Greengrass, that Grindelwald desired most of all? Mr Longbottom's already given you a hint."

Daphne Greengrass blushed under his gaze and Lupin didn't need to see his daughter and her friends to know that they were rolling their eyes at her reaction. "It was the Elder Wand, sir."

"Correct, take five for Slytherin. Does anyone remember who he stole the wand from?"

The class was quiet for a moment or two, until Harry raised his hand. Lupin grinned, "Go on, Mr Potter."

"Mykew Gregorovitch." He said, sharing a similar grin and added, "Sir."

"And how is it you know that?"

Ron snorted at his right and Harry narrowed his eyes at his Professor, smile falling. "I just know it."

"Oh, is that it? I thought it might've been because Viktor Krum said in the last issue of _Quidditch Daily_ that his wand had been one of the last-"

"Nope." Harry interrupted, now glaring. "I'm just really interested in wand history."

"Oh right, apologies," Lupin said, mirth shining in his eyes and lips twitching, as he waved his hand next to his head, mimicking wafting away fairies,"must of slipped my mind. Take five points."

He twisted his body to face the class at large, ignoring Harry's pointed glare as the three girls in front giggled, occasionally glancing back at him. "With his army and the Elder Wand in hand, Grindelwald aimed to abolish the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and subjugate Muggles under a new world order run by wizards, until his defeat in 1945. Of course, this meant that when Riddle was brought into the Wizarding World in 1938, Grindelwald was still at large and the Hogwarts he joined as a first year was one that'd been ladened with protective charms and defensive wards. Professors were far more focused on suspicious adults, older students and guests to the school, rather than measly first year students who had been living as a Muggle. Well, all but Transfiguration Professor and Deputy Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who'd been the Professor sent to retrieve Riddle from the orphanage and inform him of Hogwarts and his magical blood. Professor Dumbledore, despite being concerned about his preference for malignancy, was otherwise impressed with the child, considering him to be a misunderstood young prodigy."

When he saw a good few of the students go to speak, to raise question into Dumbledore, he talked quickly over them. "I know what you're all thinking; that Albus Dumbledore went on to found and fight in the Order of the Phoenix against Lord Voldemort. Later on in his life, during the war and following the numerous casualties on both sides, he struggled with enormous guilt and all the deaths weighed heavily on his mind," he quirked a brow and muttered under his breath, "or so I'm told."

There were some laughs and he smirked at them, "You didn't hear that."

"No, we all went very suddenly and momentarily deaf." Dorcas said, mirroring his smirk and Lupin laughed. 

"Good. Now, where was I?"

"Um," Arcelia said, eyes darting to the chalkboard, "Riddle's at Hogwarts in his first year."

Lupin nodded. "Oh, yeah. So, he was sorted into Slytherin House where he, unsurprisingly, quickly proved to be an exceptionally gifted student. Although his unhealthy mental state secretly worsened as he started his quest for magical power and social domination, he simultaneously got better at concealing his nature and used his good looks and charm to befriend his classmates and ingratiate himself with his teachers, with the notable exception of Dumbledore, who it is assumed, Riddle didn't trust due to the Professor's own renowned intelligence and power. Many of them were instantly taken in by his charisma, and by the start of his second year, Riddle was made unofficial leader of a like-minded gang of Slytherin boys."

His eyes swept the room, resting only for a moment on a boy in the far left back corner with dark eyes, curly brown hair and a green tie, who looked supremely uncomfortable at the topic.

He quickly looked away and back to the classroom at large. "The members of this gang, who all came from wealthy Pureblood families, were involved in a number of nasty incidents during their school years, though Riddle was careful to never become implicated in any wrongdoing and was held as a model student.

"Over time, Riddle grew obsessed with discovering his magical ancestry. He came to the conclusion that his father must have been a wizard because his mother died, a terrifying fate that secretly was Riddle's greatest fear above anything; which he foolishly assumed powerful witches and wizards could avoid." Lupin nodded at Harry and Ron's amused faces. "Yeah, in hindsight it is funny that Riddle assumed his mother was weak due to this, but can anyone tell me how we can confirm that Merope Gaunt was, in fact, an extremely powerful witch?"

Nobody could. 

"Fine, I guess _I'll_ tell _you_." He huffed, blowing a fallen strand of his black hair out of his eyes and grinning when the action brought out some smiles. "One argument could be that Thomas Riddle Senior had no magical ancestors, therefore the only reason Voldemort had the levels of magical power that he did was due to his mother being astronomically powerful, she just didn't know it as she suppressed her magic following her husband's desertion. Another was- oh, Miss Granger, go for it."

Hermione had slowly raised her hand, uncommonly uncertain, "I think I've read somewhere that to brew a well-sustained and strong Love Potion you have to continually cast... I'm not sure what the spell is, but your magical core must be powerful to brew one. Or, I suppose you could purchase it, but to keep someone under the influence for a long amount of time, you would need to buy several batches and stores are required, by Ministry law, to inform Aurors if any one person continues to buy several batches of love potions."

He smiled and pointed at her, "Good! Ten points to Gryffindor. So, assuming that Merope Gaunt was brewing these batches of love potion she was dousing Thomas Riddle Senior with, we can infer that she was a powerful witch, but of course Tom Riddle wasn't as smart as our Hermione, here," Hermione blushed heavily and someone in the Slytherin section of the classroom snorted derisively and continued to laugh under their breath, until they looked up and were met with the furious glare of Harry Potter, "and didn't know this, which meant he underestimated her.

"When he could find no trace of any Riddles with magical blood, he was forced to accept that his father was a Muggle and that the magically powerful could indeed, die. Enraged by this discovery, he forsook his given name and rearranged the letters to create a new title: 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' becoming 'I Am Lord Voldemort', and he even began going by Lord Voldemort while still a student, though only with his closest friends.

It is said that Riddle finally found his magical ancestry in his fourth year, when he discovered the Gaunt's and their descent from the Slytherin family. This, to him, explained his exceptionally rare ability to speak Parseltongue, and named him as the 'Heir of Slytherin', rumoured in Hogwarts: A History to be the sole person who could open the legendary Chamber of Secrets. However, his obsession at the time remained the Chamber itself, rather than his blood line. He spent the majority of his fifth year searching for the hidden entrance, despite most people insisting it was nothing but a myth. 

"Finally, near the end of the year, he succeeded. He discovered the entrance in a girl's bathroom, which led down into the sewers beneath the lake. Entering the Chamber, Riddle encountered the millennium-old Basilisk living inside, and confirmed his connection to the historical dark wizard who bred it, Salazar Slytherin. 

"From June 13th 1943, to just before the end of the school year, Riddle unleashed the beast into Hogwarts, purging the school of Muggle-born students. Several students were petrified, and one named Myrtle Warren was killed, becoming Riddle's first recorded murder victim."

His lips set in a grim expression. "I'm sure you have all seen the plaque placed outside the second floor girls bathroom and have met Myrtle."

The majority of the girls nodded slowly, too shocked at the knowledge of how Moaning Myrtle came to be, and even some of the boys looked surprised and disturbed. "I'm sure none of you will, but I'm going to ask you not to bother her with questions concerning her death. She has given all information she has already to the correct authorities and is making use of as much peace as she allows herself." 

Here, Lupin paused. He waited until he'd seen each of the students nod their understanding, before moving on.

"As I said, Riddle stopped the attacks just before the end of the 1943 school year. This was due to Armando Dippet, Headmaster at the time, and the Hogwarts Board of Governors discussing closing the school in the interest of safety. Faced with returning to the Muggle orphanage, where he was unable to use magic, Riddle abandoned the Chamber of Secrets and secretly framed third year Rubeus Hagrid and his pet acromantula Aragog for the crimes. 

"As a result, Hagrid was expelled but offered to be trained as the school's Groundskeeper at Dumbledore's request, whereas Riddle was rewarded the Special Award for Services to the School by Dippet. With his fear of death enhanced by having stared it in the face, he used the murder of Myrtle to turn his school diary into his first Horcrux."

Lupin took a long, deep breath and sat back, using his palms to hold himself up on the cluttered desk. "Well. So far, what are our thoughts?" He craned is neck slightly to look over them all equally before deciding and making a gesture with his head towards the right of the room. "Mr Thomas, any questions rattling around in that brain of yours?"

Dean smiled, though there was a hint of discomfort in his eyes. "Um, no, no questions. Not yet, anyway. I'll probably have some when we get to the more... recent stuff."

"I have a question." Pansy Parkinson raised her hand and Lupin's left eye twitched slightly, but he nodded and smiled invitingly, so she continued, "are we going to be learning anything about the Horcrux-making process?"

"Why, interested in making one, Parkinson?" Ron spat, leaning over the desk and Pansy looked back at him, squinting like he was nothing more than a flobberworm she'd stepped on.

"If I were, you'd be my first victim, Weasel."

"Five points from Slytherin." Lupin said sternly, "And I wasn't aware that Ron meant so much to you, Miss Parkinson."

When she frowned, he smirked, "To... _create_ a Horcrux, one has to... _well._ I'll spare you the gory details, that's more of my husband's area of expertise, and no doubt you'll learn of the theory of Horcrux-making soon." He, as well as the Gryffindor's, delighted in the green-tinge her face took on, other than Ron, who also looked deeply disturbed. "In any case, I'll move on, shall I?"

He leaned forward again on the desk, resting his elbows on his his knees. "Around August-time in 1943, Riddle tracked down his Gaunt relatives to Little Hangleton, where his maternal uncle Morfin Gaunt gave him a biased account of his father leaving his mother to die and abandoning him to the orphanage. In a desire for revenge, he entered the Riddle House and used the Killing Curse to kill his father, Thomas Riddle Senior, alongside his Muggle grandparents, Thomas Riddle I and Mary Riddle, then framed Gaunt for the crimes by placing him under the influence of a False Memory Charm. As a result, Morfin then boastfully confessed to killing his own in-laws and was sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban, while Riddle stole the Gaunt's House ring, which is important, and I will come back to it at a later date."

As he said this, the chalk piece darted down to the bottom right corner of the chalkboard, quickly penning down _Reminders:,_ and then writing underneath it: _Gaunt House Ring._

"Riddle then began wearing the ring as a trophy. Shortly afterwards, he returned to Hogwarts for his sixth year-"

Lavender Brown's gasp of horror interrupted him, "He was _our age_ when he... _murdered_ _people?"_

"Still think he's owed sympathy?" Seamus muttered and Lavender blushed, ducking her eyes down. Lupin rolled his eyes. 

"Three points from Gryffindor, Mr Finnagon, let's not be snarky, please." Seamus reluctantly nodded. "Good, thank you. After Riddle returned to Hogwarts for his sixth year, he discussed the theoretical possibility of creating six Horcruxes, which meant for him, splitting his soul into seven pieces, with Professor Horace Slughorn, the Potions Master and his Head of Slytherin House, who was taken aback by Riddle's extreme interest in such powerful Dark Magic.

"Although reluctant at first, Slughorn nonetheless gave him an overview of such an experiment with the promise of keeping their discussion between only them. It was revealed to Riddle by Slughorn that Horcruxes were objects that a wizard could place part of their soul into, in order to become immortal and avoid death; though Slughorn warned that in order to split one's soul they must commit murder: killing rips the spirit apart and is a violation against nature. When Riddle mentioned the possibility of creating six Horcruxes, Slughorn was deeply horrified at the idea. This apparently gave Riddle what he wanted to hear, and he used the murder of his own father to turn the ring into his second Horcrux."

"He was _sixteen_ and he already had _two_ horcruxes?" Hermione asked no one, sounding disgustingly astonished. She wasn't the only one; the entire class looked horrified by the idea of immortality and the lengths Voldemort went to achieve it. 

"Surely more of the point is: why did Slughorn give away all this information to him?" Dorcas asked, incredulous. 

A murmur of agreement went up around the class. Lupin cleared his throat and said seriously, "What we have to remember is that, with hindsight, it's very easy for us to sit here and view Tom Riddle as a future Dark Lord, as a psychotic and evil human being. From 1943 Slughorn's point of view, Riddle was a child, not unlike any of you. A bright, charming student who had grown up a Muggle in an orphanage who had an affinity for his, and all, subjects at Hogwarts. 

"In fact, by the time it came to 1945, Dumbledore is considered as the only person who could see through Riddle's facade, and resorted to keeping a close eye on him. Of course, in that same year, Dumbledore demonstrated his own legendary magical skill by defeating Grindelwald in the famous duel and then obtained possession of the Elder Wand. As we already know, Grindelwald was then imprisoned for life in his own prison Nurmengard in Austria, the Global Wizarding War ended, and peace was restored to the wizarding communities of continental Europe.

"Dumbledore became an international celebrity and it is said that even Tom Riddle showed a reluctant respect toward him. Around this time, Riddle also graduated from Hogwarts and quickly applied for the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, which had just been vacated by Galatea Merrythought. Dumbledore, now a world-famous household name, argued against having him on the staff, warning Headmaster Armando Dippet of Riddle’s untrustworthiness, so Dippet ended up cordially rejecting Riddle on the basis of being too young, though encouraged him to reapply for the position in a few years.

"Meanwhile, Riddle was developing an interest in the relics of the Hogwarts founders, and before leaving the school, he charmed the Grey Lady, the ghost of Ravenclaw House, to reveal where the hidden famous diadem was located, and she told him. It was in a remote forest in Albania. So he travelled there and retrieved it from a hollow tree, using the murder of an Albanian peasant he encountered along the way and brutally killed, in order to turn the diadem into his third Horcrux.

"When he returned to England, Riddle was offered several positions in the British Ministry of Magic, but turned them all down and began working at Borgin and Burkes."

Lupin smiled at the students' mutual wrinkled noses and puckered mouths at the reminder of the shop in Knockturn Alley.

"It was, at the time run by Caractacus Burke, and many believed working there was a waste of his talents. He was tasked with smooth-talking people into parting with their possessions for far less than the actual cost, he used his position to instead secretly learn more about the Dark Arts and ended up forming a one-sided fake friendship with Hepzibah Smith, a wealthy old antiques collector and descendant of Helga Hufflepuff, who fell for his charms.

"At some point between 1955 and 1961, we don't know exactly when, Riddle visited her to negotiate the sale of a goblin-made suit of armour in her possession, which Hepzibah used as an opportunity to show him two of her most prized treasures: Helga Hufflepuff's cup and Salazar Slytherin's locket, the latter of which, in an ironic twist, Riddle's mother sold to Burke after stealing it from the Gaunts years earlier. In a desire for more selfish gain, he used an unknown poison to secretly kill Hepzibah two days later, then framed her house-elf Hokey, for the crime by placing her under the influence of another False Memory Charm. As a result, Hokey was convicted of accidental manslaughter, while Riddle resigned his post at Borgin And Burkes and disappeared without a trace, eventually using the murders of Hepzibah and a Muggle tramp whom he encountered in London, England; to turn the cup and locket into his fourth and fifth Horcruxes respectively."

At Hermione's, a known house-elf sympathiser, distraught face, he smiled gently. "Hokey has been since memorialised as one of the house-elf statues stood along Diagon Alley's entrance way." She looked placated enough, and Lupin spied his daughter's hand on her arm comfortingly, so he continued. 

"Now going exclusively by his preferred name 'Lord Voldemort', Riddle laid low and travelled around Europe and Asia. Little is known of his activities during this period, though he explored the Dark Arts extensively, studying the most obscure and dark branches of magic and consorting with an array of dark wizards, who would all turn out to become his followers in the years to come. As a result of magical experimentation and transformations, Voldemort underwent several physical and mental changes, which made him more powerful but less human, and was occasionally accompanied by a group of followers he came to call his 'Death Eaters'.

"By the time he was a full-fledged adult, around 1968, Riddle donned a hooded cloak, though he physically still didn't resemble the creature he would later in his life, the one we see in all the historical photography and newspaper articles, which concealed him completely and he began plotting a wizarding coup, claiming that he was greatly dissatisfied with the current state of the Wizarding World and that he would succeed where so many, including Gellert Grindelwald and Salazar Slytherin, had failed. Voldemort convinced his followers that to truly create a world full of peace and power, the old regime needed to be torn down at any and all costs and only those who shared pure blood, will and idealism would be allowed to live and thrive in it.

"In truth however, Lord Voldemort had little interest in political idealism himself. He was completely devoted to amassing his own magical power, and in becoming the most powerful and skilled wizard to have ever lived, invincible and eternal. I believe he still, after all those years, harboured an incessant need to outdo Albus Dumbledore, who, by this time, had become Headmaster of Hogwarts and was still being nodded at for the Minister of Magic position. 

"As we know already, Voldemort devised a personal sigil, one of a serpent protruding from the mouth of a human skull, which he called the Dark Mark, and that he magically branded onto the forearms of his followers as a tattoo, enabling him to summon them to his side at any moment of his choosing. They then began establishing relations with various kinds of dark creatures, including Giants and Werewolves. Though the Death Eaters were generally even less tolerant of them than wizarding society in general, these creatures were receptive of their violent and destructive goals. Dark activity suddenly arose throughout Great Britain, a country that had been totally untouched by dark magic; even during the reign of terror of Gellert Grindelwald; and Voldemort began surreptitiously killing poor and homeless Muggles, who would not be noticed by the Ministry as missing, with his followers so that he could reanimate their corpses with Necromancy until he had created an army of Inferi, a feat no other dark wizard in history had ever done."

Neville tentatively lifted his hand, and Lupin nodded to him, taking a breather. "What's Necromancy?"

"Really, this is a question for Professor Lupin during your next Defence lesson, but-"

"You _are_ Professor Lupin." Harry said, grinning, and despite the heaviness of the topic at hand, the class broke out into light laughs.

Lupin rolled his eyes. "Yes, that's hilarious. Y'know what, it gets more funny each time you say it."

"Actually, the funniest bit is you getting bored of it." Ron said, and Harry laughed, agreeing.

"Can we actually learn about Necromancy? Please?" Hermione said, her quill tip dripping ink into her parchment, the third page she was on which was already half-way filled with her delicate calligraphy.

Goyle, or possibly Crabbe, he could never really tell them apart, snorted. "Why, Granger, you thinkin' of doin' it? Wouldn' surprise me, seein' as how much you've taken a fancy to Potter-"

"Enough." Lupin snapped, suddenly serious, and the boy fell silent, as did the quietly tittering others. Harry's eyes were downturned, staring hard at the table and Ron was palming his wand, having grabbed it from atop the desk, even as Neville grasped at his forearm with silent warning. 

The girls, however, weren't as mindful and Arcelia's head whipped around, fire burning in her cool blue eyes, as Dorcas dragged wand under the table tapping it on her thigh dangerously, despite Hermione whispering at them not to bother. 

"What was that, Goyle? Did I just hear _you,_ of all people, accuse _someone else_ of looking like they'd just been dug up and animated to pretend like they're alive?" She narrowed her eyes and Goyle straightened in his seat, "That's got to be the most ironic thing I've ever heard. It would be funny, too, if it wasn't just terribly sad."

"Miss Sayre, Mr Goyle, please _shut up._ " Lupin said, eyes like steel and voice just as strong. Arcelia fell silent, but her face was furious. Goyle had turned a blotchy purple and he glared at her back. Lupin dragged a hand down his face. "Dorcas, put your wand back on your desk. If you want to curse each other, do it outside of my classroom and well out of my earshot."

Though he said one thing, his following frown directed towards Goyle made it known that if he heard of anyone cursing his daughter, or her friends for that matter, he would have something to say about it. And they _definitley_ wouldn't like it. 

Dorcas, grumbled but dropped her wand on top of the desk, small blue sparks falling out the tip accidentally. She brushed them off the half-empty parchment with her jumper sleeve and then placed her chin in her hands, staring with innocent doe-eyes up at her father.

Lupin rolled his eyes at her dramatics and sent an obviously fake smile at Neville. "Good question, Mr Longbottom. Necromancy is the Dark Art of raising the dead. It is also the branch of magic used to create Inferi and Charmed skeletons, as well as Zombies. It was banned in the Ancient Magic Laws introduced in 1876, if you recall us going over those...?"

Neville nodded, seemingly the only person around their area listening, the others too engrossed in either their own self-pity (Harry and Hermione), or their own rage (Dorcas, Ron and Arcelia).

He continued, "In my opinion, it could also be considered as a branch of magic that never truly worked. Assuming the original goal of Necromancy was to bring people back from the dead: whilst it is possible to create Inferi, these are mindless creatures with no soul or intelligence, despite possessing human corpses and hence are not actually 'raised' persons. But, really, if you have any more questions you want to ask about it, it's probably best to mention it in your next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson."

"Yes, sir," Neville said, rapidly taking down notes, "thanks."

"No worries." He cast his eyes over the class, taking in Harry's scrunched up face, Hermione staring at her lap and the other Gryffindors mutinous silent fury, paired with the majority of the Slytherin's obvious glee at getting them all so riled up, and sighed. "Ready to move on?"

Only Neville and Parvati nodded, Hermione only leaning forward and half-heartedly picking up her quill again, but he began again anyway.

"Between 1965 and 1971, as well as being appointed the position as Headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore was also appointed as Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation Of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. In these positions of influential power, Dumbledore passed extreme legislations to prevent any possible dark forces from threatening overall security around Great Britain; while refusing the position of Minister Of Magic, claiming it would give him far too much power. It was these laws and measures that openly and secretly prevented Voldemort and his Death Eaters from initiating their revolution right away; something which, in my mind, could have only fuelled Voldemort's hatred of Dumbledore in the years to come.

"Voldemort then returned to Hogwarts to reapply for the position of Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher; only this time, he was annoyed to find out that Dumbledore had succeeded Armando Dippet as Headmaster. Unlike the last time he applied for a teaching position, Dumbledore suspected that this desire to teach was completely insincere, and his main goal was to recruit students to his cause and train them in the dark arts.

"As it turns out, Voldemort was hoping to search the school for artefacts like the sword of Godric Gryffindor and turn it into his sixth Horcrux, which would complete his goal of splitting his soul into seven pieces. Unsurprisingly, Dumbledore declined to hire him; telling Riddle that he knew full well that his desire for the position was insincere and that he secretly held more nefarious desires. Perhaps out of spite for the Headmaster, or perhaps for being denied a genuine desire to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, Voldemort secretly placed an unknown dark jinx on the position, making it so a professor could not hold it for more than one school year. Whatever the reason, this ended up having insidious benefits to his long-term plans, as decades of students, including myself, would be stuck with erratic, poor-quality knowledge of Defence Against the Dark Arts, unless we taught ourselves, which a lot of us in my school year ended up doing.

"While in the school, Voldemort took the opportunity to conceal Ravenclaw's diadem. He was also unsuccessful in finding Gryffindor's sword.

"In 1968, Minister Of Magic Nobby Leach left office for mysterious health reasons, leading to a conspiracy theory that he had been poisoned by his Muggle-prejudice advisor Abraxas Malfoy. He was then replaced by Eugenia Jenkins, who, like her predecessor, was sympathetic to issues of social justice.

"As we went over last term, Squibs then began marching for their rights, which spurred pure-blood supremacists to riot. Throughout the decade, with various minority groups demanding to be treated as equals, many of the old, elite Pureblood Houses, to which all of the Death Eaters belonged, increasingly felt that their very way of life was being threatened. Many Pureblood supremacists who did not join the ranks of the Death Eaters nonetheless gave their wholehearted support to Voldemort's cause in secret even still.

"It was in this charged climate that in 1970, Voldemort revealed himself openly, proclaiming himself the Dark Lord, and started to commit extreme acts of terrorism in Britain. With his army of dark wizards and dark creatures at his command, Voldemort launched an assault against the British Ministry of Magic with the intention of toppling it and creating a new world order run by pure-bloods, with Muggle-borns either killed en masse or kept in utter bondage, and Lord Voldemort himself as an immortal leader, though likely ruling from behind the scenes."

Lupin sighed, stretching out his arms and wincing as his elbows cracked. He went to move his legs, before making a pain-filled face at his numb legs, and staying put. Dorcas snorted humourlessly, no doubt still thinking of ways to obliterate Goyle into a thousand pieces.

Whilst cracking his neck, Lupin said, "So, that was a brief overview of the 1940s and Voldemort's childhood, which should help us understand why he committed certain acts during our next phase," he gestured to the chalkboard with his wand, where the chalk piece moved over to the next column, "the 1970s." He winked at them all, "Which I know a little more about. Continuing on:

"To make headway in this assault on the Ministry, the Death Eaters and their allies began openly carrying out attacks on Muggles for sport and to create chaos. Cleaning up these attacks, healing survivors, modifying memories, searching for the perpetrators, and attempting to prevent future attacks occupied more and more of the Ministry's time and attention. As their confidence grew, the Death Eaters also began targeting Muggleborn and blood traitor witches and wizards, torturing and sometimes killing their victims, which shocked wizarding society. Other 'inferior' magical beings such as house-elves and Goblins also suffered under their reign of terror. To inspire yet more terror, the Death Eaters would cast the Dark Mark in the sky over every house or scene that they killed at.

"Many Death Eaters also managed to secretly gain strategic positions within the Ministry of Magic itself. They then used blackmail and the Imperius Curse to expand their influence and destabilise the government from within, which was desperately trying to keep order and continue to maintain secrecy from the Muggle world. Augustus Rookwood, for example, was an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries and managed to set up a particularly successful secret network of espionage within the Ministry.

"Minister Jenkins was ill-prepared to lead during wartime, and it seemed that the Ministry was incapable of gaining the upper hand. Voldemort himself personally killed hundreds of wizards, though he tended to only fight those he considered worthy of his attention or too powerful for his followers to defeat. In these encounters, he displayed his extraordinary abilities, many of which were thought impossible, and he very quickly earned the reputation of the most powerful and dangerous dark wizard of all time, surpassing even Grindelwald.

"In response to the growing threat of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, Dumbledore formed the Order of the Phoenix in 1971; to take the fight directly to the Death Eaters. Though the Ministry officially viewed the Order as a vigilante group, a number of powerful Ministry officials joined instantly to participate in more secretive, sudden assaults to crush the dark rebellion."

He grinned at Harry, who, at the name of the Order had finally looked up from quietly stewing, and at Neville, whose parents were among those powerful Ministry officials. 

"However," here, Lupin grew more serious, getting lost in the memories of his time, "despite our best efforts, Voldemort continued to grow in magical power and influence, and his attacks, whether carried out personally or by his Death Eaters, became more frequent and brutal. It was clear that Dumbledore was the only wizard in the world who rivalled Voldemort in ability. In the Order of the Phoenix, we initially had very little success, and many continued to be killed by Voldemort.

"Terror and chaos gripped the populace of wizarding Britain to the point that many began to fear to speak Voldemort's name. He became widely referred to as 'He Who Must Not Be Named,' or, less formally, 'You Know Who' within the first year of his reign. Numerous ordinary witches and wizards lost their lives, and the Death Eaters frequently cast the Dark Mark over the scenes of their murders.

"To protect the organisation, Voldemort ensured that Death Eaters did not know the identities of too many of their fellows, and, to society at large, their identities were completely unknown. Increasing the confusion and paranoia even further, Voldemort placed many dozens of innocent victims under the Imperius Curse simultaneously, and forced them to carry out his orders. Even friends and family members were not above suspicion of one another.

"In 1975, Eugenia Jenkins was ousted as Minister Of Magic and replaced by Harold Minchum, who placed more Dementors around Azkaban. In addition, Council of Magical Law Head Judge Bartemius Crouch Senior rose quickly through the Ministry's ranks until he became the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Minchum and Crouch then began to make serious headway, though the anonymous and elusive Death Eaters still retained the advantage."

Slowly moving his legs out from underneath him, Lupin groaned as they clicked and the bottoms of his feet, as soon as they hit the floor, rapidly grew uncomfortable with a needling sensation. He leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms, just putting enough pressure on his legs to hurt but also to gain feeling back. He looked up at them all, smiling slightly, "Of course, despite my own personal experience in the war, the Ministry and in the Order of the Phoenix, there is someone else in this school who had a much more crucial impact on the turn of the tides. He'd be a better person to talk to you lot about all this than I am and, as I'm sure you're all aware, I'm speaking of our Headmaster."

Arcelia's pale cheeks bloomed into a soft pink blush as the many eyes of her peers seemed to drag to her, whether they were aware of it or not, even as she maintained the burning anger inside of her. It had lessened in the last few minutes as Professor Lupin had spoken, but it was still there, and she maintained that she _would_ be finding Fred and George Weasley after this lesson and forcing them to help her set a prank so perfect on Gregory Goyle that he wouldn't be able to even _look_ his pumpkin juice for another month. 

Despite her embarrassment at the attention to her because of her family, a characteristic her mother had always said she'd inherited from her father, she was extremely proud of him and she held her head high even as Professor Lupin shot her a somewhat commiserating glance. She'd known, ever since the news had broken that there would be an updated History of Magic class, that they would cover her father. He'd been a major part of the war, and it wasn't like she wasn't used to the attention already, five years of being the Headmaster's daughter had forced any unusualness of the situation out of her system. 

"Following the end of the War, as I'm sure you all know, Headmaster Sayre sat down with-"

"The White Knights?" Parvati Patil leaned as far forward as she could in her seat. 

Arcelia's rigid posture relaxed as the stares now were shared out between the usual four of them; herself, Neville, Harry and Dorcas. And by being friends with them since their first years, Hermione and Ron also took on that burden. It helped to not have all the pressure of the public eye on just herself.

She could feel the Slytherins glaring into the sides of their skulls and felt a vicious pleasure run through her.

Professor Lupin's grey eyes glinted at the title. "Yes, Miss Patil, the White Knights, though we always thought that name was in poor taste. Well," he considered, "some of us did."

Harry's lips twitched against his will and Lupin smiled when he saw he got what he wanted out of the comment.

"As I was saying," he said, continuing, "after the end of the War, following the years of violence and death and bloodshed, Headmaster Sayre sat down and informed the nine of us of his life story, and how he had come to wind up in Great Britain during this time. And now, after the far too long awaited update to the exam board and the syllabus, he has given me special permission to inform you all of what happened, from his perspective. For the first time ever. Of course, I anticipate after this you will all go out and tell your friends, brothers, sisters, mums and dads, perhaps even the press, but if you please, allow me to get through this. We have," he checked his watch, "four hours until dinner, and today, luckily, is the day each of you has no more classes. Because I've cancelled them for you, surprise!"

Their eyes were as wide as cauldrons. No one, not even the daughter of the man himself, had heard the account. And they, a group of thirty-two fifth years would be the first to hear it.

It seemed... well, it _was_ a world-ending, heart stopping moment. 

Lupin cleared his throat, reached behind him and picked up a pile of parchment, which was littered in a messy, looped scrawl. He waved it at them. "He has written down some notes for me, but as always, I will put my own dramatic flair on it."

This time, no one chuckled at his remark and they all held their breath as the Professor's eyes dipped down to the starting line of the first sheet of parchment.

"Right, then," he said, shaking out his wrists, "the First Wizarding War with Voldemort, from the perspective of Mr Rigel Hadrian Sayre. Or, should I say," He paused, possibly for dramatic affect, though more probable was due to the fact that even after all these years, he still couldn't believe it himself, "Mr Harry James Potter."

Harry's quill snapped in his hand, splattering ink everywhere, and the classroom descended into anarchy. 


End file.
